


Girls Just Wanna Have Fun

by TheEagleGirl



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Parties, asoiafrarepairs prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-20 07:50:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19988659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEagleGirl/pseuds/TheEagleGirl
Summary: No one breaks up with Cersei Lannister and gets away unscathed.Featuring drunk college students, revenge kissing, and dancing.





	Girls Just Wanna Have Fun

**Author's Note:**

> For the asoiafrarepairs prompt: Ned x Cersei - sloppy college makeouts.

To be  _ honest, _ Cersei isn’t quite sure why she’s here, barely registers where Taena has dragged her until she hears the bass pumping from all the way down the street. 

“Really?” she says flatly, derision dripping from her voice, letting Taena hear exactly what she thinks about this. “A house party? When we could be at Kappa with people who  _ aren’t _ beer-guzzling losers?”

“Don’t think of it as just a house party,” Taena says, pulling Cersei’s hand. “Think of it as  _ revenge. _ Robert’s gonna be here tonight.”

Cersei feels her lips curl into a sneer, “And that’s supposed to make me  _ want _ to go to this?” Still, she straightens her top, pulls out her lipstick for another red coating. Beside her, Taena is smiling slyly, like she already knew Cersei would go along.

She’s going to make Robert Baratheon regret the day he was  _ born. _

“Okay,” Cersei says, tossing her hair. “Let’s go.”

* * *

No one,  _ not one single person _ , has ever broken up with Cersei before.  _ She’s _ the one who does the breaking up, not the other way around, and that’s why Robert has to pay. He has to  _ suffer  _ for giving her the “It’s not you, it’s me, let’s take a break” speech, for dumping her a week before spring break, for never even returning her fucking polysci notes. Cersei knows that he wants to screw around with other girls over spring vacation and it still  _ burns _ that he got around to breaking up with her before she had the chance to do the same. 

He’d been a shitty boyfriend. She’s not sad to see the back of him. But  _ still. _ Cersei refuses to lose to a loud, unrefined  _ jock. _

The plan tonight is to show Robert what he’s missing. Or, that would be the plan, if only Cersei could  _ see _ him through this unbearably tight press of drunk coeds. Robert is tall enough that Cersei can usually find him in a crowd, but after fifteen minutes of looking, she turns to Taena.

“He’s not here,” she hisses, just barely audible over the music. 

Taena shrugs, “His brother said he is.” Taena ignores Cersei’s glare and looks around. “Want a drink? I’m going to get some beer.”

Cersei opens her mouth to tell Taena she would never drink  _ beer, _ especially not out of a can like a Neanderthal, but Taena’s already been swallowed up by the crowd.

Cersei decides to fuck it. She’s always liked dancing, and the music isn’t that bad. Oberyn Martell is on the dance floor with his girlfriend, and in less than a minute flat, Cersei is dancing with them both, almost skin to skin. She’s lost herself in the heat of it, hair swishing against her bare shoulders, her chest pleasantly hot, Oberyn’s hands on her hips, Ellaria pressed up behind her. She can feel eyes on them, and it’s  _ good. _ Maybe this was what she needed all along. 

Taena comes back with drinks and joins in the dancing, pulling Ellaria close. Cersei is knocking the whiskey back when her eyes catch on Robert’s big frame across the room.

He’s looking at her. His brows are furrowed, arms crossed. Cersei shoots him an unimpressed look and only steps closer to Oberyn, basically grinding on him now. Privately, she’s thrilled that Robert looks annoyed. 

“Ah,” Oberyn breathes in her ear. “I see what this is.” He pulls back with a wicked grin. She and Oberyn have a love/hate relationship going on, but he's always good for dancing and trouble. “Things getting rough in paradise, Cersei?”

“Paradise?” Cersei snorts. “He wasn’t good enough in bed to call it a paradise. And we’re over.”

“So you wanna show him what he’s missing?” Oberyn’s eyes remind Cersei of a snake, ready to strike. 

Cersei is tired of talking. She pulls him close by the belt loops, begins to dance again. “Something like that,” she says. She sees Ellaria looking at the two of them, openly admiring, and for a second Cersei is tempted. Tempted to go back to Oberyn’s apartment with the two of them. She’s done it before, back in their sophomore year. She knows it’ll be fun, and uncomplicated, and hot. Robert will be  _ vibrating  _ with jealousy.

But then, her eyes drift back to Robert, still scowling at her, and she has a better idea.

“Oberyn, baby,” she drawls, and presses an open kiss against his jaw, feels him laugh at the press of teeth. “This has been fun, but I’ve got lives to destroy. You know how it is.”

His eyes are darkened and smiling when she pulls away. There’s a red stain at his jaw where the lipstick has marked him. Cersei feels a savage sort of pride. “Happy hunting, little lion.”

She downs a shot of tequila before making her way over to Robert. He’s talking to his friend when Cersei sidles up to them.

“Fancy seeing you here,” she says, smiling sharply. Jaime always told her this was her predator smile, and that people on the receiving end should beware. Too bad Robert’s too dumb to understand the danger he’s in.

“Same,” Robert says cooly. 

“Having fun here in the corner?” Cersei snags his drink, takes a sip. She can see his eyes follow her lips. She exaggerates her frown, pushes the cup back at him. It’s beer, and bad beer to boot. Cersei doesn’t know why she expected any refinement from Robert Baratheon.

“I’m always fun,” Robert says, and there’s that flirty look in his eye that makes Cersei want to smack him. 

“Now, that’s not exactly true,” Cersei tells him. “ _ I’m _ already bored of this conversation, and I want to dance.” 

She can see it, that he expects her to ask him to dance with her. She can see the wheels turning in his head, and he’s thinking about maybe fucking her one more time tonight. She looks  _ hot,  _ after all. And Robert Baratheon’s weakness has always been pretty women.

Instead she turns to his friend, the one he’d been talking to when she stalked over. Ned Stark is watching the exchange, bemused and a bit exasperated. She can imagine him pulling on Robert’s sleeve, saying,  _ Not again, Robert.  _

“You don’t look boring,” Cersei says, lying through her teeth. She bets that if she looked up “boring” in the dictionary, there would be a picture of quiet, studious Eddard Stark. Once, she wondered aloud to Jaime what any woman would see in him. Still, she pulls the red solo cup from Ned’s hands, thrusts it at Robert. He’s so confused that his fingers close over it immediately. “Dance with me,” she demands, and doesn’t even give Ned a chance to argue before pulling him out onto the floor.

Ned Stark is strong. He’s on the school hockey team. She’s seen him lifting weights at the gym before. He could easily break her grip, but instead he follows dutifully. When she turns around to look, he’s got one eyebrow raised, as if he knows her game.

_ You don’t know anything about me, _ Cersei thinks viciously. 

“I don’t really dance,” Ned says, instead of calling her out on her scheme. Cersei is slightly taken aback, but blinks the surprise away.

“I didn’t think you would,” Cersei says breezily, waving her hand. “Besides, you don’t have to move a muscle.” And with that, she pulls his hands to her hips, and slowly starts grinding against him. 

If Ned Stark is surprised, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he seems incredibly amused. Cersei feels almost insulted. 

“I think we’re giving Robert a heart attack,” he observes in her ear, close enough that she can hear it over the music. Cersei is impressed—she didn’t think he’d have the nerve to lean in.

“Good,” she says, and puts her arms around his shoulders. “Move your hips with mine. You’re stiff as a board.”

Ned looks unsure. “I...believe me, that will  _ not _ end well. I really, really don’t dance.”

Cersei sighs. He’s being remarkably cool about her kidnapping him onto the dance floor to make his best friend jealous, so instead of snapping she just says, impatiently, “As long as we’re already out here I might as well  _ teach _ you.”

God, he really is terrible. He moves his hips with weird, jerky movements, and she stops him after a few seconds. 

“Slow  _ down, _ Stark. If you’re this fast in the bedroom, no woman is ever going to want to sleep with you.”

He starts turning red at that, and Cersei thinks,  _ that’s cute, _ before immediately becoming mortified. 

_ I’m drunk, that’s all, _ she tells herself forcefully, but that’s not true. She’s only had two shots, and it takes far more than that to get her wasted. She quiets down the anomalous, traitorous impulse to press her fingers to the side of his throat and feel if the blush has warmed his skin.

He’s not  _ bad _ looking, but Cersei has never been attracted to Ned. Every interaction they’ve had before tonight has been sour, a clash with Robert in the middle. 

“I suppose,” Cersei says, without thinking, “that now that Robert and I are done, you’ll be much more tolerable.”

Ned’s hips, which were actually getting better at moving, stutter to a surprised stop. Cersei swats his shoulder. “You too,” he says, grudgingly. “Unless this is an attempt to get him back, and then we’ll go back to hating each other’s guts and passive aggressively insulting each other every time we’re forced to interact.”

Cersei grins at him, unexpectedly surprised. “Ned Stark, you have  _ teeth.” _

He raises his eyebrows at her. “Are you just now noticing?” he asks, but there’s a warmth in his voice that Cersei’s never heard before. He’s  _ teasing _ her.

“You’re full of surprises, I guess,” Cersei says, smiling up at him. After a moment, he returns the smile, and Cersei thinks it’s the first time he’s directed one at her. It changes his face completely. Gone is the sullen best friend, and in his place is someone Cersei wouldn’t mind looking at. 

“Why did you let me drag you out here?” she asks. 

Cersei’s half expecting him to say something stupid and disappointing, but instead he says, “You’re not the only one pissed at Robert right now.”

“You’re upset with him? I’m surprised. I thought you two worship each other.”

Ned is quiet for a second. It looks like he’s making a decision. Finally, he groans. “Fuck it. He’s sleeping with my little sister. I walked in on them today.”

For a moment, Cersei feels nothing but white-hot rage. Carefully, she says, “Was this happening while Robert and I were together?”

Ned shakes his head. “No. I don’t think so. I think it just happened.”

“Are they seeing each other now?” Cersei asks. The anger ebbs a little, but not all the way. Lyanna Stark? She isn’t even that  _ pretty. _ She wears torn jeans and football jerseys and every time Cersei sees her on the quad it looks like her hair hasn’t been brushed in weeks.

“I have no idea,” Ned says. “I haven’t spoken to them since I found them earlier. Robert was trying to have a conversation with me when you came over.”

“I’d have thought you’d give them your blessing,” Cersei says, because she  _ is _ genuinely confused. Isn’t he Ned’s best friend? “Don't you guys have total bro boners for each other?”

“Not when I walk in on them in my bed, we don't.” Ned sighs. “His bed was literally four feet away, and somehow they still ended up in mine. And I never, ever wanted to see my sister in that position. I’m scarred. Traumatized for life.” 

Cersei laughs. It might be insensitive to whatever crisis Ned is having, but he doesn’t seem to mind that much. Over his shoulder, she sees Robert glaring.

“I just need time. I’ll be fine with them in like a week. But I want him to sweat a little.”

“You know what’ll really drive him insane?” Cersei says, and this is either the best or worst idea she’s ever had.

Ned looks down at her with narrow eyes. “I feel like I don't want to hear the answer, but I’m listening.”

Cersei scrapes her nails down the side of his neck. He shivers at the contact, which spurs Cersei on. “If we made out. Here. Now.”

For a moment, Ned doesn't move, doesn't react. And then he says, “Cersei, I think you may be drunk. Or crazy.”

“I'm not either of those things,” she says frostily. She should reign in the bitchiness, especially if she actually wants to make out with him, but a part of Cersei thinks he likes it. 

“Cersei, we don't actually like each other.” He speaks slowly, and that's when Cersei knows she has him. He sounds too much like he's trying to convince himself. 

“That,” she breathes, inches away, barely audible over the music, “isn't necessary, especially for a revenge makeout.” 

Unsurprisingly, Ned's eyes fall to her lips. It is a surprise, though, when he lifts his right hand from her hip and slowly,  _ carefully _ tangles it in her hair enough to tilt her head back. 

In comparison to that gentleness, the kiss is rough, and  _ hot, _ something Cersei would never have considered Ned Stark capable of. It's sloppy, and more of a battle for dominance than anything else, and Cersei's blood is thrumming with desire by the time he pulls away. 

“Come back here,” she snarls, and pulls him back in. 

She can taste the alcohol on his tongue, and when he rocks against her she faintly thinks that  _ oh, he can move his hips when he tries, _ before he's pulling on her hair again. Suddenly, there's a wall at Cersei's back, and she's not even sure when they started moving but she's not sure she cares either. 

“I hate,” she pants, when his mouth moves to her throat, “that you're actually good at this.”

His mouth is stained with her lipstick when he pulls away far enough for Cersei to see his face. She can't tear her eyes away. “The feeling is mutual.”

Over his shoulder, Cersei can suddenly see Robert, his mouth gaping wide, shock written across his face. A few feet away, Taena, Oberyn and Ellaria all look fairly impressed. Oberyn gives her a thumbs up. 

“I also kind of hate that I'm more interested in finding out what else you can do with that mouth of yours than staying at this party,” Cersei says, still out of breath, her mouth working before her mind catches up. She's surprised to realize she's telling the truth. “You live here, right? We could move this upstairs.”

For a second, Ned looks conflicted. After all, that's a bit more than the revenge makeout they agreed on. Robert is still his best friend. But then he leans in to plant another  _ filthy _ kiss against Cersei's mouth, and she knows she has him. 

**Author's Note:**

> I think my hatred of beer bled through a just a tinyyy bit ;-P
> 
> If you liked this, please leave a comment/kudos! 
> 
> Also, if you’d like some more nedsei content, feel free to follow me on tumblr @ladystarks, where I'm constantly banging pots in the corner and preaching about this ship!


End file.
